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My prayer is not the whimpering of a beggar

My prayer is not a confession of love.

Nor is it a petty reckoning

Give me and I shall give you.

My prayer is the report of a soldier

to his general:

This is what I did today,

this is how I fought to save the battle

this is how I plan to fight tomorrow.

My God and I are horsemen

galloping in the burning sun

Galloping in the drizzling rain.

Pale, starving, but unsubdued,

we ride

We.ride

We ride

and converse.

Leader!

I cry.

He turns his face toward me,

and I shudder to confront him.

Our love for each other. rough and ready,

we sit at the same table,

Awe drink the same wine

in this low tavern of life.

In this low

Tavern

Of life